Page 16 of Claimed By the Cowboys

She shrugs and I double down. “You’re a grown woman, Brandy. A beautiful grown woman. There’s nothing wrong in wanting to let your hair down once in a while.”

“You’re right.”

“You having doubts, baby?” Bo asks, “Because if you are, we can take you home.”

“Female guilt around sex is hard to escape,” Brandy says. “But I’m good. I am a beautiful grown woman, and I shouldn’t feel bad about wanting to feel good.”

Bo kills the engine and helps her down. I follow, staying close on her other side as we secure the room. Once inside, Bo flips on the lamp by the bed, bathing the simple space in soft golden light. I catalogue the room: clean sheets, couple of chairs flanking a big bed which is definitely roomy enough for the three of us.

Brandy stands in the middle, looking between Bo and me. She clasps her upper arms, looking defensive all of a sudden.

I step in first, resting my hand on her hip, licking my lips, taking my time, and giving her every chance to change her mind. When she doesn’t, I slide one hand into her thick curls and pull her gently against me.

“Been wanting to do this since you yelled at me in the bar,” I murmur, smiling against her lips.

Then I kiss her.

She tastes like margarita, salt, and pure temptation. At first, she’s a little stiff, likely still thinking and worrying about her choices and the position she’s put herself in, and maybe conscious that Bo’s watching, but I take my time, coaxing her mouth open with soft, teasing strokes of my tongue. When she finally melts into me with a sweet little sigh, possessiveness and tenderness unfurls in my chest.

I kiss her deeper, learning the shape of her mouth, and relishing how she whimpers when I tug lightly on her curls. My hand slides down to cup her full ass, pulling her closer until she can feel exactly how much I want her.

When I finally pull back, her lips are swollen, and her eyes are dazed.

“Goddamn, Brandy,” I breathe, thumb brushing the plumpness of her bottom lip. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Bo moves in behind her, pressing his chest to her back. He kisses the side of her neck, one big hand settling possessively on her stomach. “Told you she was something else,” he says roughly, his voice already dark with want.

Brandy shivers between us, caught exactly where she belongs. Her head falls back against Bo’s shoulder as I lean in to kiss her again, hungrier this time, while Bo’s mouth trails along her neck and his hands start mapping her curves.

She moans softly into my mouth, the sound of pure relief and surrender.

I smile against her lips.

Tonight we’re going to make damn sure this strong, sexy woman doesn’t have to think about a single thing.

Chapter 8

Brandy

The door barely clicks shut behind us before Jensen is on me.

His mouth crashes into mine like he’s been starving for it, one big hand tangling in my curls while the other closes around my hip and drags me flush against him. His kiss is demanding, almost ruthless in its thoroughness, and within seconds, I’m breathless.

He may share a face with his twin, but there’s no mistaking Jensen for Bo. Not like this.

My heart stutters as the reality of what I’m doing finally catches up with me. This is crazy. I should have more sense. I should probably have a whole list of reasons to stop.

I can’t find a single one.

Then Bo presses in behind me, solid and familiar, his chest a wall of heat at my back. His mouth finds the side of my neck, and suddenly there are hands everywhere—gripping, stroking, holding me between them until I can barely keep track of who’s touching me where.

For one dizzy second, it isn’t the intensity that undoes me. It’s the attention.

The hunger in their touch is overwhelming, but the tenderness underneath it is what makes my chest ache.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen groans against my lips. “Been thinking about this mouth for weeks.”

“Yeah?”